


In the Presence of Mercy

by Somethingtodowithlife



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingtodowithlife/pseuds/Somethingtodowithlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles has fallen and can only think of Patroclus, but before he can pass on he is visited by the goddess of mercy. Eleos offers Achilles a gift, a gift that can change the future of those around him. Achilles must choose his fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Presence of Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small work to get me into the swing of things. Enjoy!

Achilles felt relief when the arrow pierced his back. A smile graced his lips and he fell. When he had first learned about the prophecy of his death he had been scared, terrified. As the world exploded into light around him however, fear was overtaken by joy. 

When the light subsided Achilles found himself standing over his body. The air was dry and there was a palpable silence that covered the field. Is he dead? He heard their whispers. The greatest fighter of the generation was dead. No one moved. What were they supposed to do? Lay me to rest. Achilles thought. That’s all he cared about anymore.  
As if sensing his desire the crowd began moving around him. The silence was gone, replaced with shouts. Everything suddenly became a muddle. Faces blurred together and Achilles felt fear creeping up his spine. His hands covered his ears, trying to block out everything. 

When the noise ceased Achilles lifted his head. The crowd around him seemed to split on their own accord. Two rows, one on either side of his body as if he was a groom awaiting his bride. Achilles scanned the area, looking for a cause in the crowd’s sudden change in behavior.  
“Achilles,” his name a whisper on the wind. Achilles turned back to face the crowd and his body.

A woman clad in white walked between the two rows of people, the crowd oblivious to her presence. She walked with confidence, each step more graceful than the last. She lifted her head when she reached Achilles’ side, revealing warm brown eyes. She looked down at the body of Achilles a look of sorrow overcoming her face. Pushing a brown curl behind her ear, she bent down and placed a kiss on Achilles’ cooling forehead. 

When she stood back up she looked him in the eye. “Achilles,” she repeated. “I have come to offer you a precious gift.”

Achilles could feel the otherworldly aura that clung to her, but her identity was unknown to him. Even if he knew who she was, what could she offer him in death?

“My lady, please forgive me. I’m afraid death has stolen more from me than I had thought. There is no other reason why I wouldn’t know your name, but even if I did I do not think there is anything you could offer me now.” Achilles used his charm, hoping that it would cover his offense.  
The woman lifted her chin and gave Achilles a smile, a smile that seemed to contain the stars.

“Do not worry Achilles. I don’t expect you to know me. I hail from Athens. I have aided the children of warriors and myth. Though, my pity is not often evoked. My name is Eleos and I offer you something that only I can give. Mercy.”

Mercy, the word rang in his head. What did mercy mean anymore? Wasn’t death his mercy? His eyebrows furrowed, causing creases to appear on his face. 

“Mercy? I don’t understand. I have been awaiting my death, what else could I want?” Achilles asked while Eleos looked at him as she would a child.  
“I offer you mercy in the form of a second chance. I will bind your soul back to your body. You will rise and truly be the best of the Greeks.” Achilles felt his mouth open in surprise, trying to form words of a response he couldn’t comprehend.

“Isn’t that impossible?” he asked her. “The only ones who can control life and death are the fates, and I have passed the realm of the living.”

Eleos looked down at Achilles’ body, still surrounded by bystanders. “Life has not fully left your body. Warmth still glows. I can bind you to the living once again.”  
Achilles was confused. Why was she offering him this? Surely he didn’t deserve such a gift. “Why?” Achilles wondered aloud. “Why are you offering me this?”

Eleos’ eyes left the body and instead found the eyes of Achilles. “I offer you this only because I can see what will happen if you stay. “

“What will happen if I say yes?” he questioned, a new urgency laced in his voice. Eleos released a sigh before answering. 

“If you say yes, you will go on to win innumerable battles, and glory will be yours. You will sire many children, all of whom will carry on your legacy. They will be an integral part of your country’s future. Your days will be full, you have nothing to fear.” Her voice sounded sure and convincing.

Achilles could feel the answer on the tip of his tongue. Yes, he almost said, but something stopped him. “What of Patroclus?”

“There is nothing I can do for him, he chose his fate and the fates chose him.” Her voice was suddenly cold. 

“No,” Achilles didn’t even have to think. There was nothing for him in life if Patroclus was with the dead. How could his days be full if the one he needed was not there? 

Something akin to anger flared in the goddess’s eyes, but she quickly quelled it. “Think carefully, son of Peleus. Once you enter the underworld, you cannot come back.”

“No,” Achilles said again. “I cannot live a happy life without Patroclus at my side. He is my happiness. He made my days full, now he will fill my nights.”

“Your philtatos will not be waiting for you in the underworld, Achilles. Your grave will be honored but his will go unnoticed. He will roam while you rest. I cannot guarantee you that he will ever join you.” Her words were like ice that chased away any traces of warmth. Still, he would not change his mind.

“I would rather risk loneliness in death than loneliness in life. At least in death I will be at peace.” Achilles knew that Patroclus would find his way to him. It didn’t matter how long it would take. Achilles would wait. 

“Are you sure of yourself? There is still time to bind you to this world again, though it is fading. I will not find you again and you will be forced to find you own way.” Eleos gave Achilles a curious look.

“I am sure. This is the only way,” Achilles answered.

“Very well,” said Eleos. “The bond has been broken and I must return. I hope you find your happiness, Achilles.” Eleos left just as she had appeared, in a ray of light.  
Achilles felt the tension leave him. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had almost said yes. Patroclus hadn’t been the first thing to cross his mind. Achilles kicked the ground and let out a frustrated yell. 

Achilles failed Patroclus in life and he almost did it in death. He was so selfish. Achilles let his pride and desire for glory get in the way. If he had just agreed to fight when Patroclus had begged him, they would both be alive. It was his fault.

What if Patroclus was furious? What if he refused to even see him in the underworld? Achilles couldn’t stand the thought of it. Patroclus would understand. Patroclus would forgive him. Patroclus always understood, always forgave.

A sharp yell brought Achilles out of his thoughts. A sudden pull brought him back to his body. It had been picked up. Achilles’ body lay on a stretcher as the brothers that served as their doctors brought him back to camp. He couldn’t remember their names. Patroclus would know.

Achilles wouldn’t have been able to resist the pull if had wanted to. Patroclus had yet to be buried. Achilles almost didn’t even allow himself to have the slightest hope. Maybe. Maybe, he is waiting for me. Achilles thought. Suddenly the brothers weren’t walking fast enough.

As if sensing his thoughts, the two brothers picked up their pace. The walk back to the camp was uneventful at best. Achilles just felt restless. When the camp was within sight Achilles could feel his deadened pulse begin to pound. 

He was suddenly nervous. He knew what happened to the bodies of the dead. He had even presided over a few burnings himself, but he didn’t know if he would feel anything. Achilles was terrified. 

Everyone in the camp was somber. Achilles’ death wasn’t surprising to them. They knew he had been waiting to die, and now he had. The camp could breathe a little easier. The tension and grief were finally gone. 

Achilles watched as the members of the camp silently built a pyre for his body. It was stacked quickly, no one looking each other in the eyes. Did they hate him in the end or did they just not care anymore? He couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t deserve any kindness in death. He had caused too many deaths. The brothers placed his body on the pyre and a servant girl covered it in oil. 

Odysseys stepped out of the crowd, a solemn look on his face. “We have lost the greatest warrior of a generation. The success we have gained wouldn’t have been possible without him.” Odysseys’ voice was quite, the only hint that he mourned at all.

A voice from the crowd interrupted, “He was also responsible for our failures!” One by one the men were agreeing, shaking their heads and murmuring their own opinions.

“Silence!” Odysseys yelled. “Would you have me do the same at the burning of your body? I promise you that I will be alive to see it.”

The crowd was silenced by his words. No one here wanted trouble passing into the underworld. 

Achilles wasn’t surprised at the men’s outbreak, he had failed them.  
Satisfied with the crowd, Odysseys raised a torch and lit the pyre. The wood instantly caught fire, the flames reaching for the sky. “The underworld is glad to receive you, my friend” Odysseys whispered.

Achilles sighed, he felt nothing but peace. His ashes would soon be united with Patroclus’. Would he be able to tell when their ashes mixed? He doubted it. He didn’t even feel his body burn. 

The burning could have lasted minutes or hours, Achilles did not move his gaze from the pyre until his body was nothing but ash.  
The servant girl who had placed the oil on his body returned, this time to sweep the ashes into an urn.

That evening Achilles watched as his ashes were mixed with Patroclus’. He stared intently, begging the spirits that he would feel something. When the ashes mixed however, Achilles felt nothing. Achilles quickly turned his back to the vase and stormed out of the tent.

The next few days passed in a blur. Achilles could no longer make out specific shapes and colors. People passed by, looking like apparitions from a dream. Day and night were the same. Achilles continuously felt sick. All he wanted to do was rest but he couldn’t sit, he couldn’t sleep. 

When a new day broke the fog was cleared from Achilles’ vision. Achilles felt a small stirring of hope as the world became clear again. With clear vision came a pull that Achilles recognized. The urn containing his ashes was being moved. Achilles followed the tug.

Achilles found Odysseys carrying the urn away from the camp. Are they going to let me rest? Achilles wondered. There was nothing he could imagine that would be better than that. Achilles watched the world around him, in what he hoped was the last time. 

His only regret was letting Patroclus die, but soon even that wouldn’t matter anymore. He thought of his father who was growing sick without an heir. His mother also came to mind, but Achilles quickly pushed the thought aside. He daydreamed about all of the days he spent with Patroclus, the memories of the mountains even dearer to his heart than they were before. 

Achilles looked out to the ocean. He had always been fond of its rolling waves and unpredictable weather. The sun shone on the waves now, making the water sparkle like gems.He felt a blanket of peace cover him. The world around him was beautiful but it was time to let go. 

Achilles watched as the urn containing his and Patroclus’ ashes was placed in the tomb. It was grander that he had anticipated, with its white marble gleaming in the sea air. Achilles took one last breath of air as his name was etched into the stone. 

With the exhale came release. 

When Achilles opened his eyes he was greeted with darkness. He was nothing but a conscious, a phantom. Achilles attempted to look at his surroundings but he couldn’t move. Everything was still.If this is the afterlife, where is my peace? Should I have chosen mercy? Achilles wondered but no answer came, so he did the only thing he could do. Wait.

Achilles didn’t know how long he had been waiting. All he could feel was the restlessness that weighed down on him. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for anymore. Would he be free soon?  
***  
Color appeared amid the darkness. It was golden and hot. Achilles no longer felt lethargic or restless. He was reminded of warm summer days, of races down a beach. He was warm and winded. He was free. Achilles no longer had to wait.

Achilles let laughter bubble up inside him for the first time in what seemed like forever. He watched as a dazed Patroclus stepped out of the light. When Patroclus looked at him, Achilles knew he had made the right decision not picking mercy. Achilles smiled and stretched out his hand.

Patroclus took his hand and there was no darkness left. Achilles was overwhelmed with joy. 

“I waited,” Achilles breathed out. 

Patroclus gave him a pained look, “I know. I’m Sorry,” he whispered.

Achilles shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I would wait for you forever.”

Achilles put his hand on Patroclus’ cheek, drawing him closer. Their foreheads rested against one another’s and Patroclus let out a sigh.  
“I was so lonely. I thought I was going to be telling your mother stories forever,” Patroclus whispered.

“My mother?” Achilles asked.

Patroclus nodded his head, his brown curls tickling Achilles face. “Your mother came to visit your grave. She looked utterly empty. All she knew of you was your skills in battle. So, I told her everything I knew about you.” Both let a comfortable silence settle over them until Patroclus spoke again. “It was her, you know.”

Achilles pulled back and gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother, she was the one who carved my name into the stone. She’s why I’m finally here,” Patroclus’ voice gave away that he was still in awe over the fact. 

Achilles didn’t know what to say. For as long as he could remember his mom had readily expressed her hate for Patroclus. She refused to protect him when Achilles had begged her to keep Patroclus safe. He allowed himself to think that maybe, she cared for Achilles enough to give him one last favor. However, he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Achilles said. “We’re finally together and nothing can tear us apart.” Achilles’ eyes were blazing as he wrapped his arms around Patroclus’ waist. “There’s just us now.”

Patroclus laughed as he placed his hands on Achilles’ shoulders, “For eternity,” He whispered. It was the best thing Achilles had ever heard, oh how he had missed Patroclus’ laugh.

“For eternity,” Achilles echoed. 

When the words left him Achilles placed his lips on Patroclus’, his world becoming nothing but light. He had waited so long to do this again. How had he managed? He felt Patroclus’ lips moving against his, making his head spin. Each gasp, each swipe of the tongue made him breathless. He had never felt as complete as he did now.  
He pulled Patroclus closer and sighed. Eternity didn’t seem so long anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my work! Please leave comments/kudos if you enjoyed. I would love to hear what you have to say!


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